Our Time
You are thinking about my world In your world, I am a dream You can wipe out With a mere thought Spent on someone else. I will be gone in your momentary disregard For the better part of the day, But it doesn’t work that
Crossroads
I have four ways to go, When I pick one, I find another four Down the road When I am on one, I think about the other three I left behind. What if one of them Held a different face? That would have taken me
That Place You Visit Everyday
Walls are closing in, Everyday I am here I smother myself a little, Yet I shoehorn myself in Into the world’s most hated place; When you are not in love, Everything turns into distaste. Aren’t we checking into a stockade Of chasm to find our
Utopia
When you are loved for every breath you make, Praised for every step you take, When you ask you get your own realm of space, When you walk and you reach a place, When you talk and they lose the presence around, When you are
Where are You?
Where did you go? Why did you disappear? You have no idea how powerless I feel when I try to do things on my own. You used to be there, always dreaming alongside. Now that place is empty. I can still think. I can still
The Burrowers
What world? We have a world of our own, It isn’t as bright, It is devoid of light, But we can see, Unlike you. Isn’t that the dream? We feed on what you leave, We live on what you love, We leave nothing like you
21 Ways of Being Happy Book Review – Shama Patel
Loved the conversational tone of the book. The author writes quite lucidly. She knows what she is talking about, and most of the things pop out right from her personal experience baggage. Her stories make the book fun to read. Also, they relate to us
Boundaries and Walls
People seek ‘their’ people in people When they get lost in an uncaring lot. They wear symbols to stand out, Carry clothes that talk loud of a place Demarked on a patch of land called home. They smile, when they do, at their reflections, And
Insane Eyes
Eyes of glory, Eyes with a story, You hold my gaze with reflections of a star; I think they are diamonds you wear for eyes. If you hadn’t turned around for a furtive glance, I might have failed to notice your eyes looking into mine,
The Alternate Universe
Books are parallel dimensions, interwoven shades of reality hammered by our heads. It is a twitch in our brain that spurts out at contemplative junctures to say those right words that often end up being unsaid. They are also acts that never happened, the what